Nyx

What the actual fuck was going on?

The crowd split open like someone had dropped a live grenade in the center of them, bodies stumbling back, whispers hissing through the air. Then—boots. Heavy, synchronized, disciplined. About fifty men marched straight through the parted sea of pack members, and at the front was Leviathan himself, looking... panicked.

Panicked. Over me. Okay, now that was new.

Why?

Father gasped so hard I thought he might swallow his own tongue and instantly dropped to his knees. "Th—the Lycan King?"

The what now?

Leviathan. The Lycan King. The same Leviathan written about in the half-finished lore books I read in the attic. Oh fantastic—so the universe sent the heir apparent dramatic plot device to collect me. At least he wasn't a rogue. And more importantly? That meant it was officially time to switch to Plan B: survive by any means necessary, play stupid when convenient, manipulate shamelessly if needed.

My comfort zone, really.

Leviathan had vanished a few days ago, so naturally I assumed his disappearance would be the poetic excuse for my execution. But guess what? My existence apparently had just enough value to drag the king himself out of hiding.

Mission. Fucking. Accomplished.

Damn, I was good.

Dante dropped next to Father, bowing like Leviathan had walked in with divine lightning strapped to his ass. "Y-your majesty? Respectfully, this is an intrusion on—"

"Intrusion?" Leviathan snapped. "This is an intervention."

Oh, he came in swinging. Delicious.

"You're interfering with our pack affairs!" Dante barked, desperate to keep control of the crowd. "This girl harbored a rogue! She broke pack law!"

"Is that so?" Leviathan mused—and then projected his voice loud enough to crack stone. "I was the one she hid!"

The courtyard went silent so fast I swear I heard someone's soul leave their body.

"You... what?" Dante croaked.

"I was investigating reports of a skinwalker near your borders," Leviathan said, voice booming with palace-trained authority. "I was ambushed and injured—crawled until I found shelter. Nyx found me, gave me food and water, treated my wounds instead of leaving me in the cold to die."

Murmurs rippled through the pack like a gossip wildfire.

"That doesn't absolve her! She failed to report—"

"Report what?" Leviathan cut him off sharply. "Must anyone who's being helped submit paperwork to your alpha's family? Are you seriously executing your own for showing a stranger mercy?!"

Dante went red. Truly tomato. It was beautiful.

"You think you can storm in here and rewrite our pack laws?!"

"Yes!" Leviathan roared, full authority rattling the stones under our feet. "Because I'm the king and I wasn't asking your permission!"

Father tried his luck—idiot move. "But she hid an outsider. She knew—"

"She knew nothing!" Leviathan shot back. "She had no idea I was the Lycan King, which makes me curious how only one pack member can become so isolated she doesn't even know who the current king is?!"

The crowd buzzed harder now, eyes shifting toward Father with something dangerously close to suspicion.

Dante grasped at straws. "You're just doing this because you've become infatuated with her!"

"And if I were," Leviathan said slowly, "you still wouldn't have the authority to challenge that."

Dante lunged—but Leviathan's soldiers were already shielding the king, swords drawn in a blink.

"You will release her to me now," Leviathan commanded.

"This is my territory—"

"You're on borrowed land in the Blackfoot kingdom's territory," Leviathan said coolly. "To live and prosper, you follow my request. Now. Or perhaps I should spread the word about your... overreaction to people who reject you. Or that the beta isn't who he pretends to be at all."

Father went ghost-pale.

Oh... so the king did overhear something. Fantastic.

Blackmail I didn't even have to engineer myself.

"Release her..." Dante gritted out.

"Get her out of those chains," Leviathan barked.

Soldiers rushed me, unlocking the cuffs digging into my wrists. Dante glared at me like I personally summoned the apocalypse. "You'll regret this," he hissed at Leviathan. "You have no idea how to handle someone like her."

"Is that your business?" Leviathan replied, not even bothering to look at him.

The chains fell. Strong hands helped me stand. The crowd was staring now, not with hatred this time but with—confusion. Doubt. A hint of shame.

Who executes a nineteen-year-old for helping a wounded stranger?

Especially when the stranger turns out to be the damn king.

I walked toward Leviathan, unsteady but stubborn, and he immediately draped a jacket over my shoulders. His scent hit me like a punch—warm, sharp, annoyingly comforting.

"Thank you for coming," I muttered.

"I'm not here for you. I'm here on principle," he said.

Sure. And I was a decorative houseplant.

"But you're safe now."

I frowned and tried to focus—but the weakening potion from my meals had hit peak potency. My limbs felt like wet sand. My vision fuzzed at the edges. They must've doubled my dose after I argued with Dante. Of course they had.

"Nyx? Nyx?" Leviathan's tone shifted, sharper, closer. "What is it?" His face blurred. I blinked, stumbled.

He snapped his head toward someone behind him. "Evan!"

Who the hell was that?

Shit.

I'd lost control of the situation.

***

The moment my body remembered how to function, my eyes snapped open—pure instinct, pure survival. A breath brushed too close to my face.

I moved before thought even bothered to show up.

I grabbed the presence by whatever limb my hands landed on and kicked it like I was launching a demon back into hell.

"AH!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!!" an unfamiliar voice shrieked.

I shot upright, ready to claw my way out if I had to. Leviathan froze mid-step, staring at me like I'd just risen from the grave, and the poor idiot I had assaulted was rolling on the floor clutching his ribs.

"Uh... wow. What a way to wake up," Leviathan said, blinking hard. "I don't even know what to say."

Great. Wonderful. I assault the king's lackey before breakfast. So... fight the king next? Bite someone? Fake rabies? Die dramatically? The options were endless.

"Where the fuck am I?" I demanded.

"A clinic. Have you never been to one?" Leviathan asked.

"No," I shot back. "But why am I here?"

"To get you treated and bring you back to the main Blackfoot territory," he said. "Didn't you want me to save you?"

Yes. But I didn't want it stated out loud like some cheesy fairytale confession.

"I already said thanks. Now fuck off."

"That's not a good idea," Leviathan said, shaking his head. "You probably don't know this, but tensions are really high between us and that stupid kid. If we leave without you, I'm afraid they'll try to execute you again."

Of course they would. Lovely people, really.

Fine. Plan C: If I couldn't escape like I wanted, I'd light a big fire that couldn't be stopped on my way out. Leave a mess so catastrophic they'd never be able to put me back in a corner. And most importantly destroy the beta and his family.

"How can I prove I'm related to someone?" I asked.

Leviathan blinked. "...Well. A DNA test."

"I need one. And an audience with the alpha. If you can do that for me, I'll go with you," I bargained.

Immediately, the guy I'd kicked leapt between us like a loyal guard dog with bruised organs. "Why the hell are you giving orders to the Lycan King?"

"He's still just another wolf," I said with a shrug.

Both of them stared at me like I'd just insulted the goddess herself.

"Anyway," I continued, "can you do it or not?"

"We don't have to do anything for you," the spare hissed, rubbing his side.

"I was asking him." Because frankly, Leviathan owed me for the walking disaster ripple effect his presence caused.

"You—" the spare started.

"Just get the test done," Leviathan cut him off with a sigh, "and then call the alpha and beta over here."

Good. Helpful. Exactly the level of cooperation I needed to light this powder keg properly.

"I don't see what this is going to prove at all," he added.

"Of course you wouldn't," I scoffed. "You don't have the insight."

Leviathan narrowed his eyes. "...What are you planning?"

I flashed him a sharp, tired grin—the kind that should've warned him I was too pissed and too smart to lie down and behave.

"Just sit back," I said, "and watch a nice show."